Sunrises
by poloboy209
Summary: A series of oneshots depicting five sunrises that Fleur and Hermione get to spend together. Hope you like it, please read and review. If you have any ideas or requests, you can include it in your review.
1. Chapter 1

The sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains, expanding and widening before dissolving. Dust danced whimsically in these errant rays, shifting continuously in no perceivable pattern. Clothes were strewn across the room messily, hanging off the occasional piece of furniture. A casual bystander would either think the room was inhabited by an incredibly well-dressed pig or recently came face to face with a hurricane. Two bodies lay entangled in a large queen-sized bed. The bodies were a mess of limbs snaked around one another and covered barely by a thick red duvet.

The bed shook slightly as one of the bodies began untangling itself from the other. It had long, slender limbs covered by skin that was neither tanned nor fair. Surrounding the body was a kind of surreal aura that portrayed fragility and strength at the same time. Perched on a delicate neck was a rather angular head, hidden under a mop of silky bronze tresses. The body – which obviously belonged to a female – extracted herself to her feet and stretched. In what many would call extremely sensual, she raised both her lithe arms and pushed them up as high as they would go.

The body still blissfully asleep on the bed started to stir. Slowly and steadily, as if it was still escaping the tendrils of sleep that overcame it the previous night, the body sat upright in the bed. A hand reached up to rub the last grains of sleepiness from the body's eyes.

"Mmm…as much as I enjoy ze view, where are you going mon chere?" the sitting body asked. The body, also a female, had a voice that was as smooth as the finest silk; practically flowed out. Due to her accent each word was over enunciated and crystal clear.

"I have to get to work." the standing body replied curtly. As opposed to the previous voice, this voice was much more rigid. One would match this voice to a worn out accountant dealing with his last client for the day. It was strained and quick.

"Why zon't you take a personal day and come back to bed with me?" The 'p' in personal day was stretched out and ended up sounding like a contented cat's purr.

The standing figure shuffled around the room before finding what she was looking for, a sleek, dark brown stick of no more than ten inches. With a muffled word and a quick flick of her wand, her clothes, utterly hidden by the mess of the room, floated towards her. "I can't."

"Why…?" the sitting body whined, collapsing back onto the bed. Her head was facing the bed and her blonde locks fanned out. It seems that she was attempting albeit without much effort to suffocate herself.

"I'm sorry Fleur. You know the arrangement." The standing body was standing in the path of the meager light entering the room thus only her silhouette was visible, outlined by the glow of early morning light.

Seeing as her technique to persuade the standing figure to stay was not working, Fleur lifted her head up and put on probably the biggest pout on the face of the Earth. Her ruffled hair and statuesque features made her look like an angel.

"Ermione…" Fleur pleaded. Inside she knew that it was futile, despite the fact that her pout was lethal to roughly ninety-nine percent of the worlds population, Hermione belonged to the one percent that remained unfazed in the presence of her pout. Hermione, whom by now had finished putting on her undergarments and was now proceeding to buttoning up her office jacket, chuckled.

"You know that doesn't work on me." she admonished. Her fingers had some difficulty buttoning up the buttons on her work jacket as they trembled incessantly. "Results of last night's festivities no doubt" she mused. Indeed last night had been wild; fervent kisses and an insatiable Fleur. The thought alone sent shocks through Hermione's spine, causing her to shudder involuntarily.

The shivers Hermione experienced were not lost on Fleur, sensing that she might have a shred of opportunity left, she quickly pounced. And by that I mean she literally jumped up and hugged Hermione.

"Ahh! Fleur!" Hermione chided. She had turned around in a pointless attempt to at the very least save some modesty and now was fully regretting her actions. The full body hug was totally unexpected, although not necessarily unwelcome. "W-What are you doing?"

"Me? I'm not zoing anyzhing," Fleur's voice trailed off as she started to pepper kisses along Hermione's neck. Hermione had to fight the overwhelming urge to tilt her head to give Fleur more room to work with. But boy was it tempting…

"Fleur, stop." Hermione sighed. Fleur mumbled something in agreement but did not cease her ministrations. The kisses were growing in intensity and Fleur's hands had taken to undoing the buttons that had taken Hermione nearly ten minutes earlier.

"Fleur please stop." Hermione sighed. As much as she would love to strip down and have another round with Fleur, the job came first.

"Stop now." the playfulness had been stripped from Hermione's voice, this was a command not a request.

A frown found its way onto Fleur's face. Her nose crinkled up and furrows formed on her forehead. Both of her wandering hands had stopped and her lips were now drawn in a taut line. The skin on Hermione's neck tingled slightly, an aftershock of the tender kisses. It felt similar to phantom pain from the loss of a limb but nicer like phantom pleasure. Hermione sighed, knowing that she had upset Fleur, and turned around to peck her on the lips. She made sure that the kiss was chaste and quick so as not to lead her to believe that anything more could happen right now.

"I'm sorry but I really must be getting to work." Hermione said sadly.

"Why zo you always find 'easons to leave afzer we spend the night togezher?" Fleur questioned.

"Its part of our agreement remembers? If memory serves you were the one that put in that clause." Hermione pointed out. With a wince, Fleur withdrew from Hermione's slim frame and gave her some space to fix the buttons that had come undone.

"I know." Fleur muttered quietly. These words, that were barely whispered, caused a wave of nausea to pass through Hermione. The pure sorrow contained in those few words made Hermione retch with guilt. The pain was so transparent and intense that Hermione wouldn't even wish it upon her worst enemy. No one, dead or alive, should ever have the misfortune to experience such unadulterated sorrow. And yet Fleur was and it was all Hermione's fault.

Fleur sighed; Hermione was right as always, can't she read between the lines? These sporadic nights together were pleasurable, definitely, but her heart now craved more. Her very soul yearned for the pure ecstasy of being on the end of one of Hermione's smiles; not the ones that she pastes on her face to show the world but the honest to god, real smile. Hermione had become a drug that she was utterly and irrevocably hooked on.

"It makes me feel cheap." Fleur blurted out. Hermione, who by now was completely clothed, turned around and stared Fleur in the eye. Her stare was firm and unwavering.

"Don't ever think that." she admonished. It was one thing for Fleur to feel upset but this, this was unforgivable. Never should she feel 'cheap'. Even as she said the word in her mind, she resorted to a hoarse, cruel tone.

Fleur sighed resignedly; it seems yet again they would not be together the day after coitice. Once again, Hermione would leave and leave her alone. Loneliness hurts worse than pain once it sinks in…

"Won't you at leazt watch ze sunrise with me?" Fleur asked. Hermione smiled warmly and nodded. "In bed?" Fleur added hopefully.

With rolling eyes, Hermione led Fleur back to the bed. A short incantation later, the window that was once shielded from the outside world by satin curtains, was now enlarged and completely free of obstruction. Fleur released a sigh of pure bliss as she was spooned by Hermione. For the first time, Hermione noticed the view that existed outside the window.

London in the morning was like a petulant child. The city itself seemed to wake in steps. As the sun climbed ever higher, a pale blue sky was revealed. Clouds curdled like huge, fluffy pieces of opalescent cotton candy. The roads of the city were still largely empty, only the occasional car rumbled by. The aroma of freshly baked bread was just starting to waft through the air as bakers prepared their first loaves of the day. It seemed like a dense fog was just dispersed and now everyone was starting to awaken. Lights in other apartments flickered on and birds left their nests to escape the moisture that had accumulated overnight.

Bright orange streaks cascaded through the light blue sky; another magnificent sun rise. Fleur treasured these moments where she didn't have to deal with Hermione leaving. For a while, she could pretend they were two lovers who were simply spending some time together. For a while she could be happy…


	2. Chapter 2

A loud cry resounded through the rickety house. The ramshackle walls of the house echoed the shrill call, creating a multilayered symphony. Hermione moaned listlessly; morning always seemed to come too early. It feels like she had only just shut her eyes for a second before the rooster's jarring voice signaled the start of yet another wearisome day. Oh what she would give for another few hours of sleep.

The first thing that greeted her when she finally managed to creak open her leaden eyelids was the sun. Wait, no, that can't be right, rooster's cry out at dawn right? The sun should be just starting to rise to its place in the heavens, how could it be so bright? If it wasn't the sun; then what was this golden light? And since when was the sun golden? It must be the lack of sleep that's dulling my mind, she thought.

Upon further inspection, Hermione realized that the bright, yellow color that assaulted her vision was in fact miniscule drops of sunlight reflecting of a mop of honey-blonde hair. Frowning at this sudden realization, Hermione pushed herself on all fours. The moment she did so, she regretted it. Every fibre of her body was crying out for rest; her bones cracked unceremoniously and daggers of pain shot through her aching muscles. Her mind might be awake, somewhat, but her body sure wasn't.

"What 'ime is zet?" Fleur groaned, perturbed by the early wake up call. All the movement had roused her from her sleep and she was grouchy. Her body ran on eight hours of sleep, no less.

"Six." Hermione replied as she shook her head to banish the fuzziness from it. Sleep seemed to cling stubbornly to the recesses of her consciousness. No matter how hard she shook her head, it refused to clear and revert back to its usual focused and muddle-free state.

The thick, down comforter only seemed to weigh Hermione's body down. Its warm and comforting weight tempted Hermione to relinquish all attempts to resist sleep. After all, isn't the recommended dosage eight hours? With all the activities that occurred last night, Hermione didn't get to sleep till three. And six minus three is only three; she was entitled to another five hours.

"It is too early to awaken." Fleur groaned, covering her face with her arms.

"I'm not asking you to wake up, love." The word escaped Hermione's lips before she could stop it. Love, it felt so foreign coming from a mouth such as hers, as if her lips were not meant to produce such a sound.

Fleur's eyes shot open when she heard the 'l' word. Surely she hadn't imagined it, had she? Drowsiness was a powerful numbing agent; it would have been simple for Fleur to have imagined Hermione saying such a thing. Maybe it was her mind playing out her fantasy.

"Pardon?" she quickly said.

"I said I'm not asking you to wake up." Hermione amended the last word out as…well she wasn't sure why she did it; it just didn't feel like the right time to say it yet. The whole not staying the day after was to prevent any emotional bridges for forming between the two ladies. This was supposed to be a purely physical release, although these few days, she wasn't sure anymore.

"Was zer anyzhing else?" Fleur asked hesitantly ass she rose to a sitting position. This was it, moment of truth, if Hermione says the 'l' word then life would get infinitely happier for her. If not, though, then life remains empty. Overall, good odds.

Hermione seemed to take a moment to contemplate her answer. A glimpse of panic spread through her face but it was quickly subdued. She bit down on her lower lip, her mind obviously racing. "No."

Stopping a sigh from escaping, Fleur looked away in disappointment. Her eyelids drooped sadly and she refused to raise her gaze towards Hermione. Life was bad for her now and she needed a second of respite. The tepid air in the room became frigid cold; each of her senses was on overdrive. She could clearly make out Hermione's body despite the meager lightning; she could smell evidence of the activities that occurred last night; her sense of touch was flaring; the soft sounds of creasing cloth seemed like peals of thunder to her.

More light was pouring through the window now; the sun was a semi-circle on the horizon. Hermione cursed outwardly; it was getting late. Twisting back to face Fleur, she found her lying on the bed facing away from her. Had she not been fretting over the time, Hermione might have noticed the small pools of tears welling up in the nook of Fleur's eyes.

Hermione leaned in, hoping for a quick kiss before her departure. To her surprise, Fleur shifted away from her lips when she leaned in. "What's wrong Fleur?" she asked in a rushed tone.

"Nozhing." The reply came quick and it oozed indifference. Frowning, Hermione took another look at the sun's position; it was about three quarters in view now, trying to discern how much longer she could stay before departing with a still reasonable chance of getting away unseen.

Deciding that she could at least stay until the sun was fully in sight; she set her leather briefcase back onto the ground and crawled into bed with Fleur. If Fleur noticed that Hermione had gotten into bed with her, she did nothing to show it. Her posture remained apathetic and her gaze even more so. Hermione then pressed herself against Fleur, pushing her to lie back down. "Come on," she cooed.

"Non," was the reply. As much as Fleur would hate to admit it, she was indeed a proud and petty woman. Such quick forgiveness simply was not in her repertoire. Hermione snaked an arm across Fleur's collar and attempted to playfully drag her down. Quick as a flash, Fleur's arms moved back to keep her from falling back under Hermione's body weight. Hermione smirked, just as she expected, she then used her other arm to reach for Fleur's silky thighs.

Despite a valiant attempt to bite back a moan, a raspy sound did get out. The hand placed so precariously on her thigh starting to gently rub back and forth. Fleur was wise; she knew that this was Hermione's way of placating her. Preying on her passionate side to try and allay her anger.

"Stop zhis," Fleur commanded.

"Why?" Hermione replied, adopting a look of mock hurt. Hermione's voice was kryptonite to Fleur and she could feel some of her anger dissipating. Even more of her anger evaporated when she saw the saucy smile on Hermione's beautiful lips. Such things of beauty, thin and full, so inviting.

"You are cheazing," Fleur announced, knowing fully well that it would do nothing to deter Hermione.

"Yes, yes I am." the brunette replied earnestly. "What're you going to do about it?" Hermione said this as her lips were only a hair's breath away from Fleur's ear and upon completing her reply; she sent a rush of warm air into it.

Fleur didn't say a thing, actually didn't might be the wrong word, couldn't would be a better fit. The combination of the wonderfully suggestive words coupled with the warm air forced Fleur to shut her eyes and squeeze her lips together. She hoped that by doing so, it would further increase the depth of her sense of touch so that she might better enjoy Hermione's breath.

"Please don't be mad." Hermione pleaded.

"Fine," Fleur relented. She was hopeless when it came to this girl. She would do anything, from fighting a dragon to drinking poison, just to see a ghost of a smile grace her lips. Never had she ever felt so intensely for anyone. Her love for the younger witch burned with the white hot flames of a thousand suns, never even threatening to extinguish. But alas the feelings are not reciprocated.

"Oh! Look!" Hermione squealed. A smile inevitably formed on Fleur's lips at hearing the excitement in Hermione's voice; it was like a child's, pure and innocent, filled with unbridled joy. Following Hermione's line of sight, she came face to face with the sun which was by now fully risen.

The light from the sun banished the darkness from the sky, leaving it a mauve color. The two girl's hugged one another as they enjoyed one of nature's finest moments. Both were incapable, or more likely unwilling to ruin such a perfect moment. It seemed rude and downright wrong to interrupt such a wonderful moment

To Fleur, Hermione was like a sunrise, a rare moment of unrestricted happiness in an otherwise dull, grey world. After all, a moment is only as beautiful as it is fleeting…


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione woke with a start; her body was soaked with sweat and her breaths were coming in erratic, short spurts. Every nerve ending in her body was screaming, it felt as though she had caught fire and was now burning in sweet, sweet agony.

This is getting out of hand, she thought.

Dark, quiet places make the best spots for self-reflection, and in the serenity of the pitch-black room, Hermione reflected. In the eyes of many, she would seem to be leading a perfect life. She has a high-paying career, so high paying in fact that she wouldn't have to work another day in her life and she could still lead a fairly good one. She has an angelic lover, example 'a' being the blonde goddess lying down next to her. She is beautiful, inside and out, with shiny, luxurious hair and a penchant for helping others. Yup, she is living the dream alright; problem was the dream was a nightmare.

Opening her eyes, Hermione peered out into the still darkness of the room, trying her best to make out the edges of its various objects. The definitions of the room were barely perceptible, everything just seemed to escape its boundaries and merge together forming a series of contorted shapes. But steadily, as her eyes acclimated to the lack of light, things started to appear as if they weren't there before.

In the far corner, she could make out a fine Victorian chair with tightly sewn in fabric, looming ominously she spied a large wooden cabinet, on the ceiling she could appraise the floral print of the room. Yes things in the physical world might have been clearing themselves up to her, but in the emotional world, nothing was defined in the least.

The air in the room was still and tepid. She felt warm, too warm. But move she didn't, no; moving would risk stirring the body next to her. No, she couldn't deal with that now. Everytime Fleur looked at her, each time those soulful blue orbs rested on her body, Hermione felt naked, transparent as a plane of glass, as if Fleur was peeling the emotional layers off Hermione like an onion, ripping off layer after layer to peer into core within. Honestly, the girl was so…hopeful, her cerulean irises always held unconditional love; it was too much; the pressure was unbearable.

So Hermione opted to remain perfectly still despite the immense discomfort. Anything to put off having to deal with – this. She knew what Fleur wanted, but was that what she wanted? Having an actual relationship with the French witch? A relationship outside of the occasional release?

Then again, what was so bad about a relationship, even a homosexual one? Legally there was nothing against it; they didn't work for the same company therefore there would be no suspicions about ulterior motives; they were just two friends that liked each other a little too much. Absolutely harmless.

Yet, there was the ever present issue of publicizing the relationship as well as the constant fear of betrayal, not to mention rejection. Fleur was a magnificent specimen of human anatomy; Hermione could admit and recognize this fact. This brings up the question of whether she was good enough to pair with Fleur. No, it was easier to just ignore the burgeoning emotions. Hold it in, when you don't let anyone in, no one can hurt you. This is just a little side fun, that's all, nothing emotional…

_"Nozhing emotional," Fleur said simply. Her voice was so calm, it was like she was saying something mundane such as 'the weather today is lovely' or 'I like your skirt' not something as mind-blowing as this. _

_ "I beg your pardon?" Hermione exclaimed. She must have misheard, surely. Yet her mind knew perfectly well that she had heard what she thought she had heard._

_ "Nozhing emotional, juz a simple physical release." Fleur repeated. _

_ "So, a one night stand?" _

_ "Non I expect zhis to go on for much more zhan juzt one night."_

_ "So, you're saying, you just want to meet up willy nily and 'do it' and then pretend like we haven't? Is that it?" Hermione could not deny that she found the French witch extremely desirable; she was so exotic and immoral. Her whole life had been spent within the boundaries, taking immaculate care not to overstep the rules even slightly, was doing something wrong just this once so bad?_

_ "Oui." And just like that, a secret was born. _

_"Shouldn't there be rules?" Hermione asked sheepishly. Should there be rules for something so wrong? Was that hypocritical, ironic even? Rules comforted Hermione, she grew up with them. Her parents were dentists, they were practically professional rule setters; "Apply the whitener every night", "No sweets after brushing your teeth."_

_ Fleur's features adopted a bemused look. She looked at Hermione incredulously, facially asking her if she was serious. "Oui," she said finally after being on the end of a seething glare from Hermione. "No cuddling afzer, no spooning…" she started to list a number of different rules and conditions. What to avoid, what was allowed, what was not allowed, what was to be expected… The list went on and on. Hermione's mind went into a daze, there were simply too many things to keep track of, who knew having a secret 'whatever this was' was so complex? _

_ "Alright." Hermione interrupted as Fleur was about to engage in an incredibly graphic description of something involving a tongue and toes._

_Part of the reason why Hermione interrupted was to avoid learning such vulgar behavior and the other part was simply to stop Fleur from talking, honestly her mind could not handle anymore rules without bursting its seams._

_"Oh, one more zhing, no staying afzer sunrise." Fleur added, sort of like an after note. She then smirked and winked at her. Just bearing witness to something so sensual sent Hermione's mind into a rampage of erotic and utter inappropriate thoughts._

"Nothing emotional." Hermione muttered to herself. They were just words but they seemed to relax Hermione slightly. To Hermione these words bestowed upon her some semblance of control, something 'tangible' that she can grasp onto. Everything else was spiraling out of control.

From the edges of her vision, she saw a brief glimmer. The sun had begun its daily routine of rising, signaling the time for departure. At first, the sudden intrusion of light brought with it a stinging pain to her eyes. The pain seared through her corneas and almost immediately an angry mauve color blocked out her sight.

Ignoring the urge to raise her hands to try and rub the blindness from her eyes, Hermione took a moment to listen. This could very well be the last time she could do so. The gentle breaths of Fleur beside her, an occasional errant breeze making its way through the room, the subtle knocking of the window blinds against the window pane. These sounds – although probably as soft as a murmur – blended together to form a cacophony of noise.

As her vision recovered, a thought came into mind. She could leave now, leave and never return. This could be the very last time she would subject herself to this kind of mental torture. Technically, there was nothing that specified the duration of the agreement; it was more of acting on a whim.

So tempting, the regularity of a normal life, yet she couldn't bear to do it. She lacked the strength to cut the proverbial bonds that chained her to Fleur. No, she wouldn't survive without Fleur's voice, her touch, her everything. It had become the center of her life; every waking moment was spent in anticipation of these rare moments.

Yet, even though she would continue, there were always ways to allay the pain somewhat. Quiet as a mouse, Hermione picked herself up and dusted herself down. She clambered back into her clothes. Sometimes she felt as though these sessions changed her so much that she should not be able to climb back into the same outfit she wore before. But every though she looked at her outfit as something foreign each time, it would always fit regardless.

She risked a glance out; the sun had risen about halfway. It was truly a beautiful sight, had Hermione the time to appreciate such a magnificent picture, she would have. But as yet, she was travelling on a schedule, the sun rising was like an alarm clock to her, every second was a second closer to ringing.

Sighing, Hermione walked away using only the tips of her toes. Her steps were muffled and cushioned further by the plush carpeting of the floor.

It was better to leave this way, no sentiment. She dared not risk a glance at the sleeping beauty's face, its perfection often lead to her making rash, impractical decisions. Maybe that was why she agreed to this whole charade to begin with. Still she couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like if sun rise never came.


	4. Chapter 4

Fleur blinked repeatedly, allowing her eyes to get accustomed to the light. She felt downright sore. Her muscles burned at the slightest movement and everything felt like it was about to fall off. Even as she rested, her muscles throbbed non-stop. It was aggravating. Previously, the pain was well masked by the vigorous exercise she partook it, but now when there was no longer anything to distract her, it came to the forefront of her consciousness. The pain was so significant that it actually shook her out of the shallow sleep that she had attained.

Beside her came a series of muffled groans, reminding her that she was not alone. For a brief second, a surge of panic ran through her mind before she quickly calmed down remembering Hermione.

Tentatively, she turned her head to her right. In the darkness, she could faintly make out the haphazardly sprawled body of her lover on the bed. A tiny seed of joy bloomed in Fleur when she felt the uncouth touch of Hermione's limbs; that through in the course of the night had been separated from Fleur's frame, squirm and reach out. As if she sensed that something was missing, Hermione constantly fidgeted, stopping only when she buried her face and limbs deeper into the crook of Fleur's neck. _At least in her sleep she loves me._

The thought was so sudden and forceful that Fleur was too slow and, to be honest, unwilling to stop it. Her thought, although suggesting a degree of depravity that was very unlike her, was simply the undeniably truth. And truth, no matter how depressing, must be said.

After Hermione had left without a word the last time round, the whole affair had almost ended. For the longest time, they neither saw nor heard from one another. They each found reasons to avoid the other. Fleur was busy getting thrown about in the throes of despair and she could only imagine that Hermione simply did not want to see her. It felt like years but in actual fact was probably only about a week or so.

Yet, to her greatest surprise, Hermione had approached her for another – session.

So now, here they were, both sore and sated, reveling in the after effects of their latest escapade. Or at least one of them was, the other, Fleur, was completely regretting everything that had just took place.

Seeing her again hurt too much, it was too much, too soon. Thinking about her already sent pinpricks of pain through her heart. Actually facing her again felt like someone had opened one of her wounds that hadn't completely healed and rubbed salt into it harshly. It stung incessantly.

She should have stayed strong, denied Hermione when she saw her. But no, one glimpse of those pleading brown eyes and her logical side was helplessly put out of commission. She could never say no to her, not when Hermione practically toyed with her heart like a puppeteer with a puppet. Fleur could not resist the pull of her strings.

And now, it was too late for regret. The deed was done; no one, not even a witch could turn back the clock without some sort of repercussion. Yet, even if she could reverse time and make it so that none of this had ever happened, would she? She couldn't deny that she had not been happy these few weeks. Heck the last few weeks had been the happiest time of her life. Getting to see and do those things to Hermione was a privilege, not many people could boast about doing the same things she did.

As Shakespeare once said: tis better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved before. Fleur found the saying highly controversial yet ultimately true. She knew firsthand that love hurts and that it stung and tore and ripped at your soul. It was like the worst kind of pain but also the best kind of joy. To have never loved before, was unimaginable. Fleur couldn't remember what her life was like before she met Hermione. It was like her entire life before Hermione was a dream and the moment she laid eyes on the brunette, she woke up and started living for real.

Scoffing at her own melodramatic thoughts, Fleur allowed a flitting smile to bypass her lips before pulling them back into the tight line they started from. This was her new face; it was neither negative nor positive, just like Fleur. Without Hermione, Fleur was neutral, she did not live well nor badly she just existed, waiting for another chance to see Hermione.

A ray of sunshine landed on Fleur's eyes. She squinted and hissed in pain. _When was the last time I saw a sunrise? _The answer of course was obvious; it was when Hermione was leaving. Fleur used to love sunrises. They were spectacular back in France. Some of her fondest memories of her childhood were sitting by her window gazing dreamily out into the horizon to watch the sun bring its light into a new day. It was amazing, that something which used to bring her such unbridled joy now brought her nothing but anguish. For sunrise marked the end of yet another night with Hermione. Yet another night where despite her arguments, Hermione would not stay.

As the sun climbed ever higher on the far-off horizon, Fleur pondered her next step. She could wake Hermione up but that would be the equivalent to gutting her and pulling her hear out. What she should do is follow Hermione's lead and leave without waking her up, that way she can avoid all the arguments and sorrow that occurs in Hermione's wake.

However, leaving without informing Hermione seemed cruel. SO in the end, Fleur kissed Hermione's nose repeatedly until Hermione's eyes began to flutter.

"Wow, I could get used to waking up like this every day." Hermione said, pulling Fleur in for another kiss. Fleur pretended to resist for a second before allowing Hermione to pull her down. It always started like this; everyone would be happy until Hermione saw the sunrise and started to leave.

"You are pozitively spoilt." Fleur quipped.

"Yes, yes I am. But you love me anyways." Hermione teased back.

The comeback hit Fleur like a slap. How could she say those words in such a carefree manner? Had she meant to, or was it merely a slip of the tongue? "Oui, I do."

Hermione's laughing face disappeared when she heard Fleur's reply. For a second, her face froze in an extremely odd position; it was a mixture of emotions, like her face did not know what to show. Finally though, her face settled on stringent.

"Fleur," Hermione admonished. From her exhausted tone, it was clear that this was a conversation they had had numerous times.

"I don't want to talk about this now; can't we just enjoy the sunrise? It is beautiful, just like you." Hermione said wistfully.

"'ow can I when I know zat everytime I see zhe sunrise it means that you are about to leave. I used to love watching zhe sun rise, but now? Now, I hate it. And it is all thanks to you!" Fleur screamed. This was the first time in her life; Fleur was on the edge of throwing a tantrum. All the pent up sadness and frustration needed an outlet and this was the closest thing to one.

"It's not my fault." Hermione protested weakly. She knew full well that it was indeed her fault, it was her fault that she could not, or rather would not, reciprocate Fleur's feelings.

"Non? Zhen 'oose is it? Mine?"

"What? No, definitely not. It's nobody's fault."

"Non, non." Fleur cried, shaking her head weakly. tears fell freely from her eyes onto the comforter covering her lap, darkening its color where it fell in miniature splashes. "It is my fault. I am simply not good enough for you."

This self-depreciating tone was new to Hermione. From the day she met Fleur, the French woman had struck her as a person that would possess an uncompromising pride.

"Look at me," Hermione demanded and when Fleur did, she gripped the French woman's chin with one hand and held it tight. Fleur winced as Hermione's long nails dug into her skin. "I don't ever want to hear you say those words again."

"But zhey are true, non?"

"No. A thousand times no. If anything, you are too good for me Fleur. You're beautiful, smart, accomplished, polite and a million other things. Frankly I don't deserve you."

"Zhen, why?" Fleur asked. Her eyes implored for an answer and even though it was unspoken, Hermione knew what she was referring to.

"Maybe it is because you're too good for me. I'm afraid that I won't be able to hold your attention, that one day you'll up and leave me and that will crush me." Hermione admitted. Her previous anger had left her, now she felt empty and awkward.

"But I love you."

"You say that now, but what of ten years in the future? Will you still feel as strongly about me as you do?"

"Oui." Fleur answered confidently. Although the future is unknown to Fleur and she was terrible at divination, this was one thing she knew for sure. Nothing, no spell or potion, no force natural or otherwise, could change the way she felt for Hermione.

"Now, will you stay?" Fleur asked once again and possibly for the last time. Hermione digested the information for a minute. Unconsciously, she started chewing on her lower lip, a telltale sign that she was thinking hard.

"I-I-I will." she said with finality. Fleur felt like she was in heaven right now, dancing through the clouds. There was honestly never a time where she felt as happy as she did right at this moment. For no reason, she jumped up off the bed and hopped around madly, screaming her lungs out. This continued for about a minute or so before Fleur noticed what she was doing and restrained herself.

She cleared her throat in an attempt to ease the tension of the moment; dancing like a lunatic was not something you show to your girlfriend of all of a minute. Hermione had on an amused smirk, Fleur rarely let herself go unchecked. This was a rare moment and a priceless weapon to hold on to for future use.

Wordlessly, Hermione extended an arm to Fleur and Fleur accepted gratefully. She clambered back into bed and proceeded to spoon Hermione tightly, determined to not let her go back on her word.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

All the tears, all the heart-wrenching moments of absolute grief, it was all worth it. Every second spent crying over and thinking about Hermione was time well-spent. Because now, she had everything she ever wanted in her arms. She could finally enjoy sunrises again.


	5. Chapter 5

"Morning, gorgeous." Hermione said and smiled, knowing full well that Fleur would be awake already. She always was the early riser among the two; probably because she wanted to catch Hermione before she left. Now, even though Hermione no longer snuck out, the habit stuck. Once things got settled into a pattern, it was difficult to change.

Over time a pattern had emerged between the two young witches. Fleur would wake up first and then just lie in bed watching Hermione sleep until the later woke up as well. Then they would share a start of the day kiss and Hermione would have to resist Fleur's best efforts to convince her to stay in bed. Finally when Hermione could lure Fleur out of bed, they would share a shower and wiggle into some clothes before going out to face the day.

"It is a good morning wizh you not trying to leave." Fleur smiled back and said. It was true, without Hermione constantly looking for an exit; mornings were now a precious commodity. Waking up everyday next to a stunning beauty was not something one complains about. It also never hurt that that particular beauty had a striking personality and boundless wit.

"Oh pshaw, are you ever going to let me forget that." Hermione scoffed. This was becoming a regular pattern with them; in fact playful banter comprised a large part of what occupied the awkward silence between the two. Better that than the infinitely more terse conversation of what 'this' is and defining a relationship.

"Non, I zon't zhink so." Fleur replied teasingly. Upon hearing this, Hermione pouted grumpily. It was the single most adorable thing Fleur had ever seen. Her nose crinkled up, giving rise to numerous tiny furrows; her lower lip jutted out in the most adorable way; the edges of her eyes drooped slightly and she would always emit a low whining sound.

"You're zoo cute when you pout like zhat." Fleur then lifted an arm to pinch Hermione's nose, which Hermione hated; it made her feel like a kid.

"Hey! I am not!" Playfully, Hermione twisted around – away from Fleur – and crossed her arms across her chest with a huff. This whole ruse lasted for all of ten seconds before Fleur reached over to embrace the brunette. Hermione struggled for the sake of it before giving in to Fleur, although she did not reciprocate the hug but instead kept her arms akimbo.

"'ermoine…" Fleur purred sensually. The bed rocked as Fleur started swaying Hermione to emphasize her point. The springs in the mattress squeaked rhythmically. A grin encroached Hermione's feature; Fleur's purr was an inane turn on for Hermione.

Finally, after a full minute of continuous back and forth motion, Hermione turned back around to face Fleur, pecked her cheek and placed her hands on her petite waist.

"Mmm… I'njoy where zhis is going." Fleur purred again before claiming Hermione's lips as her own.

"Fleur. Stop. It's too early." Hermione could barely squeeze a single word out with Fleur continuously occupying her lips. The kissing was getting a little too heated and as much as Hermione's body ached for Fleur's touch, alarm bells were ringing in her mind. It was too early for that and besides both of them had jobs they needed to get to.

"Too 'arly? I zhink not, ma chere, I am French zhere is no such thing as too 'arly." Even though that was an utterly stereotypical and unproven theory, it was enough for Hermione to indulge Fleur. Nowadays, even the most outrageous of reasons were enough persuasion to bend Hermione to Fleur's every whim.

Breaking off from Fleur's tender lip lock, Hermione blinked to regain her senses and sighed. "Zhat is not zhe reaction I expected."

"Sorry, I'm just a little preoccupied right now."

"What's wrong?" Fleur asked, alarmed, among all the people she knew Hermione had one of the strongest mental constitutions. Everyday problems did not trouble her or at least not to the point where she would interrupt one of their sessions to fret over; this must have been something big. And as her girlfriend, her problems were Fleur's as well.

"It's nothing." Hermione said as she subtly shook her head. This time, a frown found its way onto Fleur's face. Lying does not constitute the most solid of foundations for a budding relationship. It hurt that Hermione did not trust her enough to share the weight of her problems.

"I know zhat is not true." Hermione's head twisted so fast that the bones in her neck cracked. Fleur sounded so sad and disappointed.

"W-what?" Mentally cursing herself for stuttering, Hermione smiled slightly in hopes that the weak façade she put up might be enough to dissuade Fleur's disbelief. It didn't. Fleur's entire body posture practically screamed 'I know your lying.' Her eyelids dipped until her eyes were half-lidded, her shoulders sagged and her back hunched into an arc.

"Fleur," Her eyes widened slightly at the sound of her name but otherwise she remained perfectly unchanged. It was clear that she was still hung over Hermione's refusal to share her woes. "Fleur," Hermione reached out a hand and guided Fleur's face to face her, "look at me please."

Fleur allowed Hermione's hand to guide her head but her eyes registered no recognition. It was like she was staring into space, a space called Hermione. "Fleur, do you really want to know what's bothering me?"

A gentle nod was all the answer she got and she continued, "I'm worried about the future."

These simple, ordinary five words pulled Fleur out of her self-induced trance. "F-future?" Was there a need to think about that, they were both still young and vibrant. The future wasn't due for years; it seemed so distant like a dream.

Hermione nodded in affirmation. "Why would you zhink about that? It is not to come for 'ears."

Upon hearing this, Hermione's face scrunched up. She was a naturally cautious person, and being cautious meant being prepared. Going in blindly and winging it was unacceptable to her. "I was just thinking about you know, where we were going to live, what we were going to be doing. You know things like that."

"Je vois. Et ce que vous avez vu? (I see. And what did you see?)" Fleur asked slowly.

"Us." Hermione replied simply. The answer, so simple, so elegant, so honest, was enough to bring Fleur to tears. The two girls hugged in an emotion-driven embrace; each holding the other to quench the flow of tears, each being held to halt the imminent breakdown. They were each other's proverbial rock of strength. It is amazing how a simple pronoun can induce such a raw emotion.

"Although, I have to say living with me may be different than what you're used to. You might have to adjust." Hermione admitted once her tears had dried and her voice had returned. A bewildered look appeared on Fleur's face and she arched an eyebrow, demanding an explanation.

"Well, you were raised in the midst of a very wealthy family. It is only natural to expect that you'd be accustomed to a more…lavish lifestyle. As such it is my duty to inform you now that a future with me is going to be a much more humble affair." Hermione paused to allow the full effect of her words to sink in.

"Now, don't get me wrong, I am far from poor but, unfortunately, I am even further from the fortune your family possesses. Although I am working now and do bring in a substantial income I feel you should know that you will not have the royal treatment you grew up with. So if you have any qualms, you should voice them now."

"Zid you 'onestly believe zhat your financial status would make me doubt our future togezher?" When Hermione failed to answer, Fleur gasped. She was shocked that Hermione would think she was so shallow. But as she remembered how she once carried herself, realization dawned on her. She did put a lot of focus on materialistic items and she did possess an air of haughtiness. How could Hermione have not gotten that idea of Fleur?

"It mazzers not to me 'ow rich and flamboyant you are." Fleur placed a reassuring hand on Hermione's forearm. "I 'ove you not for your money, I love you for you."

"You say that now but once things get tough, you'll leave me." Hermione whispered.

"Non, I would never leave you. Besides, I 'ave more zhan enough money to care for zhe both of us."

"You know a future with me might mean you have to learn to do chores?" Hermione teased.

"It would be well worth it."

"Even if you had to learn to do laundry?" Hermione quipped.

"Zon't push it."


End file.
